An Early Graduate of Late Bloomer Doom
i cry at the thought of heartbreak
i speed in the hopes to create a kaleidoscope alternative
i crash to make the illusion last forever
i die dreaming of you loving me
as i cross over
i become a dark artist painting light images
i look for a penny, but i can't find the fuse box of my sanity
suddenly, it is the third day and i do not remember a thing
it is then that i learn the definition of unconditional love
it is then that i understand the inner making of my broken heart
it is then that a realize that i had no comprehension beyond the satisfaction of my self
it is then that i reality hits me in the head like a hot anvil with cold thorns
it is then that i discover to late.....that it is indeed too late.....
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